This Kid
by raven-flighton
Summary: Tom swore he would always remember that kid that approached him in the street when he was just starting out. A kid with brown eyes flecked with green and gold. A kid who wanted to write musicals. Written late at night, may be a little all over the place.


There was a kid, Tom remembered, a kid who came up to him in the street. He was only just starting out as a composer then, had one or two shows Off-Broadway. Every other month Julia and him were gathering a group of actors to sing at Joe's Pub or some other poky cabaret venue to try and get noticed. They were climbing the greasy pole and then there was this kid.

It's safe to say that Tom still maintained his anonymity, he never got approached in the street or anything like that but this kid came up to him. This kid with green-flecked brown eyes and a smile that could light up a city at night. At the same time he had this fascinating gaunt expression, that was distinctly mournful. Somehow, Tom knew that this kid had seen some things.

Anyway, he bounced up to Tom's side, beaming "Excuse me, but are you Tom Levitt?"

"Yes," Tom said slowly, slightly suspicious of the boy in front of him.

Just at hearing that single word, this kid looked like he'd just woken up on Christmas morning "Oh my God, I love you," he paused and smiled sheepishly, rolling his eyes a little at his own mistake "Your work, I love your work so much."

"Really, you know my work?" a flutter of pride rippled through his chest. It was amazing to feel like he'd reached someone outside the walls of the tiny theatres their friends performed in. Most days it seemed it only existed there and in the tiny office he and Julia had in the corner of their apartment.

Grinning, the kid nodded "I adore your work, Houston and Levitt are totally going to be the next Rogers and Hammerstein."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Tom replied bashfully, but he couldn't keep the smile from his face. Somehow this kid's enthusiasm and happiness was infectious.

Still this kid looked at him like he was the world. There was worship, veneration, an open love in his eyes, honest and true and grown simply from nights sat with a CD player or sneaking into the back of cabaret theatres just to hear those magic melodies. Never had one person made Tom feel so worthy.

"Kyle!" another boy called from across the street. The kid turned to the sound, frowning a little.

Following his gaze, Tom saw a boy much broader in the shoulder and squarer in the brow looking around the street "That a friend of yours."

"Yeah, that's Jimmy," the kid frowned for the first time, eyes clouding with thought. Then he glanced back at Tom with an expression so earnest it was downright adorable "He's gonna be a great composer one day and I'm gonna write the book for him."

To be honest 'Jimmy' didn't look anything special to Tom, he just looked like some junkie to him. Still, this kid he could believe in. That blind passion and drive was rarer than you'd think. So he smiled at him "What did you say your name was?"

"Kyle, Kyle Bishop," the kid smiled.

Tom offered his hand to the boy "Well, Kyle, I hope to see your name in lights above Broadway, some day." As they shook hands, the older man winked "Right across from mine, with any luck."

"Kyle, what do you think you're doing?" Jimmy rushed up to the two guys.

With a shake of his head, Kyle steered his friend away "Never mind Jimmy." Glancing back at Tom, he flashed his smile one last time as he walked away "It's been an honour Mr Levitt."

"Tom, you can call me Tom."

. .

"Tom?" Kyle mumbled as he lay curled into the older man's side on the lazy Sunday morning. He was beautiful, most days he really couldn't believe that he'd been lucky enough to catch his eye. Maybe it wouldn't last long but somehow Kyle didn't care. For now, he was just content to lay here next to him and forget that he may well be falling in love.

Blinking drowsily, Tom turned towards his lover, their noses touching a little as he did so "Yes."

"Do you remember a kid who came up to you about ten years ago?" Kyle let his fingers dance nervously up and down Tom's chest as he spoke, his eyes averted.

Softly, Tom smiled, tilting Kyle's chin up so that he could see those eyes "A lot of kids come up to me Kyle, you'll have to be a little more specific."

"This one was a little over-enthusiastic, smiled too much... told you he loved you," the younger man bit his lip, anxiously.

It took Tom a moment but eventually his blue eyes gleamed with memory "There was this one kid, the first person to ever recognise me in the street, he was... inspiring... I know he told me his name but I can't..." The man's eyes wandered again, as though searching for the name written on his bedroom wall.

Tom was a genius but sometimes he could be so dense. To anyone else, Kyle's hints would have been enough for some sort of great realisation. Here though, the great composer was completely oblivious. It was adorable.

Suddenly, he gasped, his gaze flickering to the boy in his arms "It was you, you were my first fan."

"Took you long enough," Kyle half-smiled sheepishly.

With a chuckle, Tom pressed his lips to that crooked smile, running his thumb along the boy's jawline "I swore I'd always remember that kid, always wondered what happened to him."

"Well now you know," Kyle blushed a little. It would be so easy to fall in love with this boy, Tom knew, taking him in with kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He could make Kyle react in the most beautiful ways and he couldn't help but revel in it.

Squinting, curiously, Tom lay his head back on the pillow and stared up at Kyle who was now leaning over him, slightly "Do I?"

"Of course," the boy frowned, unsure of what the older man's game was.

Delicately, as though Kyle would break, Tom lifted his hand to rest on the boy's neck "Come on Kyle, what have you been up to for the last ten years?"

"You really want to know?" the younger man focussed those fantastic green-flecked eyes on him.

With a chuckle, the composer leant up so his lips were mere inches from Kyle's "Every angsty teenage detail."

Kyle took a moment to consider whether Tom actually meant it. His childhood was by no means perfect, he didn't want to dump all of his shit on a guy he barely knew. The thing was, he'd never felt like Tom was a stranger. Somehow it was as though they'd known each other forever, as cliché as that sounds.

"That year I met you was a big year," he began "Girls paid a lot of attention to me. Dad had this band with a couple of his mates from work, girls paid a lot of attention to him too. So he has this affair, I was pretty sure my parents would divorce. They didn't. Jimmy helped me dye my hair electric blue. My mother almost killed me for that, decided I had too much time on my hands, chucked me into community theatre."

As Kyle paused, Tom asked "Girls?"

"I said they paid attention, didn't say I was interested," the boy smiled fondly "All through high school, no guys paid attention to me, I think that was why I fell so hard for Jimmy back then. He was the only guy in the whole damn city who took any notice of me. Even Dad ignored me half the time. That was when he was in his denial phase. If I don't go and see him in _Hello Dolly_, maybe he'll turn out straight. Mum was ultra supportive though, threatened to leave Dad if he didn't get his act together and love me. That set him straight, no pun intended, he's been more or less okay since then.

"Still I moved out as soon as I could. He's still my Dad, I have to love him but I don't often like him. Sometimes it scares the shit out of me that I act like him."

With a shake of his head, Tom protested "I'm sure you're nothing like him really."

"I'm here with you aren't I, cheating on my boyfriend?" Kyle's gaze was suddenly ice cold as it met Tom's. It shocked him, that unbreakable cynicism written in those eyes, usually full of wide-eyed innocence and youth. Then, as soon as it appeared, it was gone "Sorry, I didn't mean that, it's just... I hate the similarities in me."

Concerned, the older man sat up "Shh, baby, what sets you apart is that you do hate those aspects of yourself, you want to be a better man. Who you are is someone who will work so hard to be the best you can. No-one could ask more of you."

"Have I laid it on too thick?" Kyle asked, blushing a little when Tom called him 'baby'. He felt a little vulnerable. Shit, he'd given up way too much to this man, tonight. This wasn't helping with the whole, not falling in love with him thing.

Tom kissed him softly and then whispered, breath warming Kyle's lips "You've shown me exactly how amazing and tenacious you are, my little fan."

Kyle couldn't help but grin at that.

. .

"There was a kid," Tom stood in front of the congregation of the church. It was full of people who's life had been touched by a boy who wasn't there to smile at them any more. All these people who would miss a special boy who would never become all that he could have been.

None of them would ever know that Tom and Kyle had been more than just friends. It was better for all of them if they never pictured their boy wrapped in that composer's arms. There had been whispers, started by Jimmy, but only Jimmy and Tom knew the truth. All of that love that he had felt in those precious moments would have to remain a secret, under lock and key, deep in his heart.

"There was a kid who came up to me in the street one day, gushing and grinning and telling me how much he loved... my work," Tom paused as the memory caught in his throat "He was the first person to ever recognise me for my work, he was enthusiastic and told me that him and his friend were going to write musicals. I told him I hoped to see his name in lights one day."

The tears came now, brimming in his eyes, glittered with gold like Kyle's gaze "And I have seen that name in lights now because that name was Kyle Bishop and he's got a show on Broadway. But he never got to see that himself. That kid had such a belief in Broadway and I only hope that that belief will remain even now because I think that was the best of Kyle. And I don't think the world could live without the best of Kyle."


End file.
